


hit it, hit it, hit it, hit it 'til we get woozy

by harperuth



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Sex Pollen, background implied brainstorm/swerve, but like premeditated and consensual sex pollen, sex under the influence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24425869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harperuth/pseuds/harperuth
Summary: “I suppose I can trust Brainstorm’s dedication to the scientific method,” Minimus mused before dipping down to kiss Rodimus again.The powder turned their energon an altogether unappetizing color, but the taste wasn’t terrible.- - -Fic for James, Rodimus and Minimus try some pre-meditated sex pollen.
Relationships: Minimus Ambus/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime
Comments: 12
Kudos: 73





	hit it, hit it, hit it, hit it 'til we get woozy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [auto_thots (towards_morning)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/towards_morning/gifts).



> title from inside boy by 3oh!3
> 
> thank you to james a million times over <3

“This seems like a lot,” Minimus turned the packet over in his digits, but the back was entirely blank. Which made sense considering it was made and manufactured on the ship, but it was the principle of the thing. He set an alert for himself to discuss proper warning labels with Swerve and...well, perhaps Brainstorm was a lost cause on that front. 

“We split it,” Rodimus wasn’t bothering with his usual bluster, just pure excitement where he sat on his berth. Minimus watched his spoiler twitch happily, “Something about complementing charge nanites, I dunno. Brainstorm got a little magicky towards the end of his explanation, and Swerve wasn’t much clearer.”

“Mhm,” Minimus ripped the packet open to study the inside. Insidiously green powder glittered back at him, “The color doesn’t really inspire confidence.”

“If you—” Rodimus was biting his lip when Minimus looked back at him, “We don’t have to do it. I just thought it would be fun.”

Minimus carefully placed the packet onto the berthside table and pushed between Rodimus’s knees to grip his face plates and kiss him, enjoying the chance to be taller than him in this form, “We can try. I trust you.”

“I trust you,” Rodimus’s smile was a tad goofy, his optics shining.

“I don’t particularly trust Brainstorm or Swerve,” Minimus couldn’t stop himself from saying, but Rodimus just laughed.

“If it helps, I did find out that they’d tested it pretty thoroughly,” Rodimus winked, a motion that should have looked ridiculous framed between Minimus’s servos, but was merely just _him_ , “Not just on themselves.”

“I suppose I can trust Brainstorm’s dedication to the scientific method,” Minimus mused before dipping down to kiss Rodimus again. They didn’t separate for a very nice few kliks, long enough that Minimus nearly forgot their purpose for the evening.

The powder turned their energon an altogether unappetizing color, but the taste wasn’t terrible. Minimus swirled his cube, “Huh. I suppose I should have expected it to taste alright.”

“Uh-huh,” Rodimus said, sounding a little dazed.

“You drank it all in one go,” Minimus didn’t bother asking.

“Uh-huh,” Rodimus groaned, “Oh slag.”

“Of course you did,” Minimus tossed back the rest of his. In for a shanix and all.

Rodimus was still seated on his berth, still moving erratically as was his way, but the twitching was starting to redirect itself into more strategic flaring to let heat escape. Plus, his spike was out and entirely pressurized. Minimus felt terribly fond. 

“I like your spike,” Minimus said, and it felt like only the shutter of an optic before he was on his knees in front of Rodimus. Huh, “It’s so pretty.”

It was pretty, not that that was something he would ever have said, particularly out loud. Rodimus’s spike was simply painted in comparison to the rest of him, swirling yellow inlays offset by glowing red biolights presenting their own nice picture. Minimus jumped at the rush of oral lubricant over his glossa.

“Minimus,” Rodimus sounded _awed_ and that was...rather nice. Minimus pressed a kiss to the base of his spike. Rodimus’s optics glowed. Minimus licked his way up to the top of his spike and took the tip in his mouth, sucking just a _bit_. Rodimus fell back on the berth, hips twitching up, “Minimus, Mins, frag, you can’t look at me like that while you’ve got my _spike in your mouth_.”

Minimus pulled off and dropped his head to Rodimus’s thigh, “Okay.”

He trailed his digits over Rodimus’s spike, pressing at each biolight, following the paths of the inlays. He exvented a small laugh every time Rodimus twitched underneath him.

“You feeling alright?” Rodimus finally managed to get out after several tries, “‘Cause I just feel more charged up than I’ve ever been, but you seem a little...weird.”

Minimus giggled. Rodimus sat up and ran a servo down his head, “Yeah, like that.”

Minimus tried to connect his text strings to his logic reasoning. Weird. Right. Yes. He tipped his head back and smiled at Rodimus, “I have no idea if this is a loadbearer thing or a beastformer thing, but I imagine Brainstorm and Swerve didn’t have a chance to test either of those before me.”

“Yeah okay,” Rodimus agreed, worming his servos under Minimus’s arms and hauling him up and around onto the berth. Minimus felt like all the air had rushed out of his frame, leaving him as nothing but a vacuum. A vacuum that he wanted Rodimus in. 

What?

Rodimus loomed over him and a enough charge to level a phase sixer slammed into him. Minimus could feel the heat of Rodimus all over his frame, but it quickly gathered and coalesced into feedback from his _own frame_ , the heat between his legs suddenly scorching. Minimus knew his optics were wide as he stared up at Rodimus, “Oh _frag_.”

“There it is,” Rodimus grinned down at him. Minimus transformed his panel away. Rodimus ground forward against his spike housing. He looked down, “Huh. ‘Nother quirk, I guess.”

“What?” Minimus struggled up to his elbows, peering down where their frames were pushed together.

“Nothin’s wrong,” Rodimus bumped his nasal ridge against Minimus’s forehead, “I was kinda looking forward to some good old fashioned frottage.”

“ _Rodimus_ ,” Minimus hissed, but finally connected the dots. Minimus’s panel had transformed away, but his spike was still very much housed. His valve cycled down and he gasped, “Another time?”

“Really?” Rodimus froze, staring wide-opticked down at him, “Seems kinda...I dunno, dirty for you. Um. Fluid...all over.”

His vocalizer got quieter and quieter as he kept going and Minimus blinked up at him. Minimus rolled his hips up, trying to brush Rodimus’s spike over his valve mesh, “Have you been altering your interface habits to better suit what you think _I_ desire?”

“Um,” Rodimus rolled his hips forward and down, catching his charge heavy spike against Minimus’s mesh _finally_. The feeling was enough to offline Minimus’s optics as feedback overwhelmed both his processor and his sensornet, the nanites in his system singing at the answering signature it felt from Rodimus. But Minimus hadn’t been dealing with foreign feelings in his base systems for this long to not be able to shunt them aside and focus.

It took a couple tricky code alters, but he shunted his awareness of the charge to the side. The rest of his perception immediately took on a more...interesting quality.

“Huh,” Minimus giggled again, still looking down at Rodimus’s spike sliding over his valve mesh.

“Oh, good,” Rodimus groaned, “We’re going to talk about this while I’m aft backwards charged and you’re high as all slag.”

“Yes,” Minimus tried to frown but he wasn’t sure he was managing. Rodimus really had the _prettiest_ spike, even against Minimus’s more plain plating and mesh. It was remarkable the way he could light up anything in his vicinity.

“Sap,” Rodimus laughed, high and bright, running his nasal ridge down Minimus’s and catching him in a kiss. Oh. He’d been speaking out loud. Minimus let himself get lost in the kiss, sucking at Rodimus’s glossa until Rodimus groaned and pulled back, “Well, now you’re in for it.”

“Sure,” Minimus agreed happily, “Wait. No. We needed to, um. What did we need to do?”

Rodimus groaned in a far different manner, “What happened to charged Minimus; can I have him back?”

“Right!” Minimus nudged Rodimus’s head back so he could see him properly, “Are there things you would like to do during interfacing that you haven’t brought up due to concern over my adverse reaction?”

Rodimus’s optics glowed steadily brighter as he talked, and this close Minimus could see the finer components of them cycling, “Minimus, I swear I’m taking you seriously as I can with my spike out, but that was the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me in berth.”

Minimus giggled. Rodimus sighed, “Also, you’re high and it’s a lot to take in. Can I spike you now?”

Minimus considered this. He looked back down at where Rodimus’s spike had stilled and was steadily dripping pre-fluid onto Minimus’s spike housing. His processor spun idly towards his conjecture engine, something Minimus usually dismissed, wondering what he would look like covered in his and Rodimus’s transfluid. 

It wasn’t an altogether unappealing image. The charge he was holding off certainly threatened to take over again. Minimus looked back up at Rodimus, letting his back drop down to the berth, “I’m going to let the charge back out. But—”

He cut himself off to kiss Rodimus when he groaned again, “But, you’re going to tell me all the things you would like to do during interface that you’ve been afraid to ask for while you spike me. Deal?”

Rodimus cycled his intake, “I reserve the right to shut up but still spike you when my vocalizer inevitably gives out from how fragging hot that is.”

“Deal,” Minimus agreed. He corrected his code.

“I kinda want you to frag my face,” Rodimus said, and Minimus almost didn’t hear him for how completely overwhelming the charge was.

“Uh-huh,” Minimus agreed, the mounting charge overpowering his logic reasoning and allowing his conjecture engine to take complete control.

“Or sit on my face,” Rodimus reached down and gripped his spike, guiding it to Minimus’s valve entrance, “Both are really good options, but like. You using me to make yourself feel good.”

Minimus’s awareness of his valve suddenly rushed back as the nanites in his system sensed their answering charges. His internal nodes sparked and clenched against each other desperately. Minimus moaned, “I would like it if you used yourself to make me feel good right now.”

“Uh—” Rodimus froze, “Like?”

“Put your spike in me,” Minimus said, optics on Rodimus’s. As such, he was able to watch every facial expression Rodimus went through as he overloaded all over Minimus’s array. 

Minimus’s charge _soared_ at the splash of fluid over his mesh and plating. Which answered one question. Rodimus’s engine whined, “Sorry, sorry— Oh slag, I’m sorry.”

“No, that was rather gratifying,” Minimus mumbled, “You should overload on me more often.”

Rodimus’s vocalizer hiccupped and audibly rebooted. Minimus reached down and ran his digits through some of the transfluid on his abdominal plating, pushing through it down to rub his node with it.

“You’re trying to offline me,” Rodimus gasped as he pushed up and looked down.

“I’m trying to overload,” Minimus corrected.

Rodimus kept watching his servo move, “Gimme like. Two nanokliks. Paired nanites, I’m still pressurized until we overload together.”

“Okay,” Minimus hummed, pressing down past his node to dip digits into his valve as far as he could reach. His calipers twitched and clenched down on them, charge trying to ground back on his own plating ineffectually.

“Frag,” Rodimus said. Minimus hummed again when he felt Rodimus’s spike bump at the back of his digits. He nudged until Rodimus was lined up once again and rolled his hips up to catch the tip of his spike in his valve.

“ _Primus_ ,” Rodimus groaned, and Minimus had to agree. The nanites in his system felt like they _exploded_ at the contact, nodes lining up and sparking together perfectly. Rodimus thrust forward until his spike was filling Minimus’s valve completely.

They both froze, fans whining as they adjusted. Minimus’s optics kept flickering on and offline, and through hazy vision he could see Rodimus’s spoiler twitching violently. Minimus’s valve clenched and they both groaned.

“Oh,” Minimus shuddered, “Paired nanites. Systems sync.”

Rodimus’s hips rolled away the same time Minimus’s pulled down, and they met again in perfect rhythm.

“Mins,” Rodimus gasped as their frames seemed to take over, moving exactly the way they needed to, chasing inevitable overload. The charge was still bubbling through his circuits, but Minimus felt less overwhelmed now, and—

“We had a—ah!—deal,” Minimus moaned, digits scrabbling at Rodimus’s back when his arms finally gave out, dropping his chassis onto Minimus’s, their hips still moving perfectly.

“Wanna— You—” Rodimus’s words fell away in a whine, “Tie you up. Lick your plating. Tell you— _Primus_ —how beautiful you are.”

“Oh,” Minimus gasped, staring unseeing at the ceiling over Rodimus’s shoulder. His conjecture engine was working itself into paroxysms.

“Wan-Wanna walk around with your paint transfers on me,” Rodimus panted, and their hips began to move in long, slow thrusts. Minimus didn’t know how he knew, nanites undoubtedly, but he knew this was going to ramp up soon, “Want my paint on you. Always.”

Minimus couldn’t imagine actually walking the halls with incriminating paint transfers, but in theory...his conjecture engine hummed happily. Whether coincidentally or in response, their pace picked up. Minimus gasped.

“I’m going to overload,” Minimus said, shock for some reason coloring his tone. He wasn’t sure why. Of course he was going to overload. Perhaps it was the all encompassing nature of the charge nanites. Some part of him thought this was never going to end.

“I want you to dance for me,” Rodimus gasped, their hips crashing together with each matched thrust, “I want you in my lap, enjoying yourself and getting off while I can only watch.”

Minimus yelped and moaned as Rodimus’s spike buried in valve and held there, charged nanites flooding his system fully and pushing him over into overload. He shuddered through each wave of his overload as it lingered in his system far longer than normal.

“Frag,” Rodimus finally gasped. Minimus onlined his optics, unsure of when he’d offlined them. Rodimus pushed himself up and stared down at him. Minimus stared back.

“You should’ve told me,” Minimus finally settled on. Rodimus pulled out, groaning and collapsing to Minimus’s side.

“Shh,” Rodimus mumbled, “Afterglow time.”

Minimus sighed, but stretched enough to press a kiss to Rodimus’s slack mouth, “I trust you.”

“I trust you,” Rodimus garbled back. 

“But perhaps no more interface aids from Brainstorm’s lab,” Minimus hummed.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me about robots on twitter [@floralpunkcfb](https://twitter.com/floralpunkcfb)


End file.
